


None Are Free But Zeus

by batsy22



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, Heteronormativity, Patriarchy, Postpartum Depression, bit natakas critical, dlc mentioned but only critically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsy22/pseuds/batsy22
Summary: "Why, all things are a burden save to ruleOver the Gods; for none are free but Zeus."Prometheus Bound, AeschylusAfter seven years, Kassandra and Kyra unexpectedly find each other again on Kephallonia.A canon compliant post-DLC reunion between Kassandra and Kyra.
Relationships: Kassandra/Kyra (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra/Odessa (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra/Roxana (Assassin's Creed), roxana/odessa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue: For a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my multi-chap fanfic for a game that's two years old lol. I wanted to write a canon-compliant story covering Kassandra and Kyra's post-game reunion. I also wanted to critically deconstruct the heteronormative tropes in the infamous DLC and its effect on a queer Kassandra. Hope y'all enjoy!

Kassandra has had many lovers before Kyra. But making love to her feels different somehow.  It certainly isn’t the best sex she’s ever had. The sand from the beach keeps getting absolutely everywhere, it’s too dark to see, and yet it’s absolutely wonderful Kyra’s eyes are full of such adoration, Kassandra doubts anyone has looked at her like that. 

Kyra sees her in ways few others can. Kassandra knows what it’s like to be forgotten in some distant corner of the world. To have nothing but the clothes on your back and a dagger in your hand. To fight and bleed for every inch. Both of their fathers have tried to kill them. Neither has succeeded. 

“Are you certain I cannot convince you to stay, dear misthios?” she says, naked in Kassandra’s arms. She cannot deny the temptation. “We’ll need plenty of hands once the rebellion is won. To say nothing of my own needs.” She bites her lip. 

_ “Once the rebellion is won.”  _ Kyra’s confidence is not without merit. Kassandra knows her own strength. Some even call her arrogant. Put her against any misthios in the Greek world, and she’ll beat them. But against the most powerful navy in the Aegean Sea? She isn’t so certain. For Kyra though, this is the cause that has driven her ever since Podarkes killed her mater. She cannot believe anything else. 

Kassandra considers for a moment staying in the Silver Islands. There are worse places in the world (she’s been to them). She imagines what it would be like to have beautiful, clever Kyra by her side always. Long hunts through those beautiful sacred forests. Making love under the stars. There are worse lives she supposes.  But Kassandra promised Chrysis that she would kill every single member of the Cult of Kosmos before cutting her throat. It is a promise she intends to keep. Phoibe will be avenged. So will Alexios. And Mater waits on Naxos still. Kyra is not hers, she is promised to Thaletas. That arrogant Spartan who cannot even fend off a half dozen Athenian soldiers without her help. More than anything though, her home is the Adrestia. She yearns for the open sea and cannot imagine being anywhere else. . 

**“** My journey is not yet over. The Cult must be destroyed. I need to find my mater. And… I suppose Alexios too,” she says, “you could join my crew. Barnabas always needs good lieutenants.” 

It’s a request Kassandra knows Kyra cannot accept. Just as Kyra knows she cannot stay here in the Silver Islands. She offers it anyways. 

Kyra sighs. “Just as you have your mission, I have my people.” Kyra stares deep into her eyes, as if committing them to memory. She cradles her face. “No matter where you may go, you will always be welcome in Mykonos.” 

They kiss, hungry and almost desperate, as if it may be their last. There are tears on Kyra’s beautiful face so Kassandra kisses them away. “Kassandra,” she says reverently, “my beloved.” 

They hold each other close. It is likely they will never see each other again after this rebellion. Kassandra will not delude herself. The Fates are cruel. There are no words to be said so neither try.  In the morning, they will need to speak of Thaletas. Of the coming battle. But for now, Kassandra is content to hold the woman she loves in her arms under the stars. 


	2. Kephallonia: Land of Lost Dreams

**Then:**

Athens is dying. The images will haunt for the rest of her days. Victims scream as their bodies split open with pus and blood. Corpses pile up on the street too quickly to burn. And then there is Perikles, his throat split open at the foot of Athena. Alexios, no  _ Deimos,  _ standing over him smiling. “Athens is mine now,” he says. Sokrates and Hippokrates refuse to leave, the noble fools. 

But always, in her dreams, she sees Phoibe. Innocent, brave Phoibe. Her sister. Her fault. 

Her mater waits on Naxos. Kassandra doesn’t know what she’d even say. It’s too much to even think about. For now, she needs to stay focused, to end the Cult once and for all. She can’t save Phoibe or Alexios, but she will avenge them. Kassandra will make the Cult suffer. She knows if she allows herself to grieve, she will drown in it. 

“If you aren’t ready, Kassanda, there’s the job on Mrykanos,” says Barnabas. 

* * *

**Now:**

Natakas is dead. Her son is gone to lands far across the sea. A dagger through the heart she didn’t see. Her fault. Another of many corpses on her conscience. Brasidas’s head on a spike. Thaletas’s body floating in red water. Phoibe cold and clammy to the touch. She’s never fast enough. 

It’s been ten years since she last set foot on Kephallonia. There was a time when this was her island. In some ways, this place has not changed at all. Mighty Zeus still stands atop Mount Ainos with his lightning bolt. Fist fights still break out on every corner of Sami. And it is still a haven for all kinds of pirates and outlaws running from both Athens and Sparta. 

But there is no Markos with his ill fated schemes. No Phoibe running about with her carved eagle. Even her old nemesis the Cyclops is long dead. Once she knew almost everyone on this island. Now it seems Kephallonia has forgotten her. 

Kassandra never should have come back here. She curses herself for giving into such sentimentality. It was Barnabus who had suggested that she “spend time at home.” But beyond the decks of the Adrestia, she isn’t certain where home is. It’s not Sparta nor the house she shared with Natakas. So she goes back to the island that raised her. Now, she feels desperate to leave. 

She sits alone on Mount Ainos. Grief clouds her thoughts. And something else. An emotion so shameful she dares not name it. But great Zeus stares down at her as if he holds her in divine judgement.  Marriage and motherhood may be her duty, but not her pleasure. She discovered too late that she will always long for the open sea and the thrill of combat. She can only admit to herself the despair of being with a man who she could never love in the way he deserved. Boredom ruled her days in their home. She could not help but long for the life she had given up. Kassandra would tell herself this was her duty to secure the bloodline of Leonidas. Staying with Natakas and their son was the mature course of action. It was never quite convincing. 

She makes her way down the mountain to Sami. Kephallonia is called the island of lost dreams. Walking through Sami always makes her understand why. She walks through its dreary, muddy streets, fists aching for something to hit. Fighting has always been her favorite distraction. Sami is a great place to indulge such a desire. Today though it seems like everyone flinches away from her gaze as they rush into their homes. 

Kassandra spies a Spartan trireme in the harbor. Explains people’s mood. Soldiers in town is hardly ever good news. Especially when they’re Spartans. 

Kassandra had tried to make a home in Sparta with her family. But as with Kephallonia, she did not belong. Growing up, she held her heritage as a shield. She was Kassandra of the blood of King Leonidas and she deserved better than Kephallonia. To be Spartan meant to be the greatest warrior one could be. To fight for freedom, home, and family. To die before surrender. But she’s seen the helot villages in Lakonia. Been to the villages burnt by the Spartan army. Not that Athens is any better. She’ll fight for whatever side pays better that particular day. 

But Spartans always bring work and her drachmae purse has been rather light recently. And Dei-Alexios could use some action. It’s been three years since Mount Taygetos. Her brother is still fighting a lifetime of brainwashing from the cult, and sometimes she cannot help see him as he was. Perikles’s throat cut open. Brasidas’s head removed from its body. But he tries and her family is whole. At much as it can be at least. It had been her intention to leave the Adreistia to Barnabas and him while she raised her son by Natakas. She cannot help but be relieved that it didn’t come to that. 

Alexios is at the docks whistling to himself. Kassandra notes blood on his fists and face. “Kassandra!” he exclaims as he notices her. 

She sighs as she notes the bodies of Spartan soldiers behind him. “Alexios, what did I say about starting trouble?” 

Her brother looks almost sheepish for a moment. “I didn’t kill those malakas. Just knocked them out” he says, uppercutting the air, “I think.” 

She nods at a corpse covered in blood. “You cut this one’s fucking throat! Malaka, Alexios,” she says, planting her face in her hands. So much for getting paid by the Spartans. 

“They started trouble with the blacksmith,” he protests, “they deserved it.” 

Kassandra’s strength has been carefully honed on battlefields across the Greek world. She knows control. Alexios however has been a weapon for most of his life. He’s known nothing else. 

“Let’s just get out of here before more come,” she says. Her pathetic homecoming will have to be cut short. They get no more than a few steps before being confronted by a group of armed hopilites. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” demands the Polemarch, “talk. Before I have my men cut you open.” 

Alexios’s eyes almost glaze over. His face hardens. “Talk to my sister and I like that again, and I’ll hang you by your own entrails.” The Cult never really was subtle. He reaches for his sword but Kassandra’s hand intercepts his hand. They could defeat them all easily, but she will not kill unless she has to. 

“There was a, uh, misunderstanding,” she says, “Very sorry about your men. I am Kassandra. The Eager Bearer. This is my brother. Do you have a need of a misthios? We could provide you with a discount to compensate.” 

“A discount,” repeats the Polemarch, “for murdering my men.” 

“We never work for free. Or I can let my brother do what he wants. ” Alexios almost vibrates with excitement. 

He stares blankly at her. She stares back. 

The Polemarch smiles. “You live up to your reputation, Eagle Bearer. In Sparta, I would be honorbound to kill you both. But my mission here is far more important,” he says, “ Very well. I shall once again make use of your services.” 

Now Kassandra recognizes him. Admiral Lysander of Sparta. One of the city’s most high ranking military leaders. The one who paid for the death of Athenian strategos. She wonders what he’s doing in this shithole. He answers before she can ask. 

“We are looking for a woman whose capture is critical for the future of Sparta. Find her and you’ll be paid quite well. Fail and I’ll have your head on a spike.” 

“All this for one woman? I’m not sure you’re a very good Polemarch.” 

Lysander smiles once again. “I’ve heard of your characteristic wit, Eagle Bearer. But do not forget your place. Your family is welcome once again in Sparta. But that can change upon my recommendation.” 

“Not to worry. I’ll find your woman for you. Chaire.” Kassandra wants desperately to rip this arrogant man’s throat out. But she won’t risk Mater’s place in Sparta. And she could use his drachmae. 

“Charming man,” she says once they’ve gotten far enough away, “I suppose we have a fugitive to find.” 

Alexios nods and takes his spot beside her. Really she could do without his rather enthusiastic bloodlust right now. But the Spartans may recognize the man who put Brasidas’s head on a spike. She’ll want to be with him if they do.  Kassandra feels a flash of rage at her brother. He murdered her friend and countless others and she let him live. Fucking sentimentality. She reminds herself the progress Alexios has made in these last months, not the least of which is the use of his own name. Kassandra imagines this hurt will always be there between them nonetheless. Alexios allows her silence which she is grateful for. 

The island holds many memories for Kassandra. Some are not so pleasant. She’d rather face them alone. She walks by the ruins of a once plague infested village that she let burn for the greater good. There is Markos’s estate, now run by someone far more competent. It’s overwhelming and it’s only the weight of Ikrakos on her shoulder that grounds her in the present. He is her oldest friend and most loyal. 

Kellalonia has many hiding spots. She imagines it would have taken the Spartans weeks to find this woman. It takes them less than a few hours. It’s a cave once dedicated to Hermes, instead used one of the Cyclops’s bases.  She sends Ikaros with a message to Lysander. By nightfall they’re joined by a force of Spartan soldiers. 

“Eagle Bearer. I am glad you fight for Sparta today,” says the captain. The man seems to purposely ignore Alexios. 

“Sparta has my sword,” she says. As long as there’s drachmae in it, she thinks. “Who is it we are hunting?” 

He shrugs. “ Some rebel bitch from one of the islands. Athenians are looking for her too. Lysander wants to get her first before the peace talks.” A woman who’s angered both Athens and Sparta. Kassandra is impressed. Poor girl, she thinks. What she's about to do isn’t personal. If it isn’t her it’ll be someone else, she tells herself. It’s part of being a misthios. 

They make their way through the cave. To her surprise, this woman appears to not have any guards. A click. Tripwire. Kassandra dives out of the way. Alexios follows. Bags of rocks overhead fall onto the two Spartan hoplites on her left. 

“Malaka,” exclaims the captain. Kassandra shushes him. It’s too late. Arrows hit one then two then three Spartans in a matter of seconds. She ducks for cover.Kassandra focuses on the spear of Leonidas and lets its power flow through her. As if from instinct, she dives forward and charges their attacker. 

The woman dodges as Kassandra charges. Kassandra brings around the spear and manages to knock the bow out of her hands. Her target freezes as Kassandra raises her sword to her neck. Their eyes meet. The cave is dark. But there’s strangely familiar about this woman. She makes out more and more as her eyes adjust to the dark and then…

“Kyra?” She drops her sword. 

“Eagle bearer,” her once lover grumbles. 

Kyra looks at her with such hatred and disgust, it breaks Kassandra’s heart all over again. It’s been seven years since they’ve seen each other. “Leave and never come back,” she had said and Kassandra had listened. The gods are indeed cruel to reunite them. 

“I see your reputation as a warrior is well-earned Eagle Bearer,” says the captain approaching her, “we’ll see that you get well paid once we return.”

“You betrayed me for drachmae? I thought better of even you, Kassandra,” says Kyra. The words sting. She’s a misthios. The job isn’t personal. 

“I-I didn’t know it was you they were looking for,” Kassandra says. The captain eyes her warily.  _ Fuck.  _ She really needs this drachmae. And Mater will be furious. In the end though, this is Kyra. The choice has already been made.

She signals Alexios who grins in anticipation. In one motion, she sticks her spear through the captain’s throat. Kyra grabs her bow and rains fire upon the remaining Spartans. It’s quite easy to fall back into her old pattern with Kyra as they fight. Alexios on the other hand is all untamed rage as he rips through the hoplites. 

“More will come,” says Kassandra once the soldiers have been dealt with, “follow me. We’ll get you off the island.” 

“I don’t need your help, Kassandra,” says Kyra as she pulls an arrow out of a dead Spartan, “I can take care of myself.” 

“I’m sorry did you have another way off the island? Or was your plan to swim?” Her tone is more biting than she intended but she can’t bring herself to care. She’d rather not have to carry this old pain right now. 

Kyra glares back at her. She digs through her supplies and tosses a bag of drachmae. Kassandra sighs. “Kyra, you don’t need to…” 

“Your payment,  _ misthios.  _ For transport off this island.” Kassandra steeles herself. She remembers how Kyra used to look at her. It doesn’t matter, Kassandra thinks. This is just another job. Kyra is not her lover anymore. Except her body doesn’t know that considering how it reacts to just being near her. 

“Why are the Spartans after you?” Kassandra asks, “I thought they were your allies.” 

Kyra spits. “Athens and Sparta. All that changes is the color of the flag. Both oppose my people’s freedom. I wouldn’t expect a misthios to understand.” 

“I  _ won  _ your fucking rebellion for you, Kyra. You haven’t seen half of what I’ve seen since I left your tiny island. I understand.” Kyra meets her eyes. Neither gives the other any ground. In the torchlight, Kassandra can make out several new scars. 

“I’m Alexios,” interrupts her blood soaked brother. 

“I don’t care,” Kyra replies. She finally breaks eye contact to gather supplies. She nods to the bag of drachmae. “Get me to Athens and I’ll pay you double that.” 

It’s a terrible idea. She agrees nonetheless. 


End file.
